


The Lies We Live

by opalescentheart



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 00:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11520492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentheart/pseuds/opalescentheart
Summary: Oswald did ask for it to be like this. To be handled roughly and pushed around.It’s the only way he knows this could work. Their little thing.





	The Lies We Live

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mymycorrhizae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymycorrhizae/gifts).



> Prompted by and dedicated to Farah <3
> 
> Thank you to Kris and Jen for being my beta readers <3

“Careful!” Oswald huffs out, grimacing in pain as his back connects hard with the table he’s pushed onto. “The table is brand new, I swear if there’s so mu-”

“Shut up,” Ed hisses, roughly grabbing at Oswald’s wrists and pinning them above the smaller man’s head as he pushes himself between Oswald’s spread legs. “ _You’re_ the one asking it to be like this, don’t forget that, Oswald.”

Lips forming a visible pout, Oswald glares up at Ed, green eyes ablaze and freckled cheeks turning even pinker as he fights back a moan at the sensation of having Ed pressing up against him like this.

And, well, it’s true. 

Oswald _did_ ask for it to be like this. To be handled roughly and pushed around. 

It’s the only way he knows this could work. Their little thing. 

Ed moves his hips, causing their clothed erections to brush against each other. 

Taking in a shaky breath and biting his lip, Oswald balls his hands into fists, straining a little against the tightening grip around his wrists. 

“You do realize this massive table and giant chair are only going to make you look _less_ intimidating, right?” Ed sneers, lips curling into a mocking smile. “ _More_ delicate.” 

“Well, in case you didn’t realize it already, I no longer care about what you think, Ed,” Oswald snaps, but not without more blood rushing to his face.

The smirk on Ed’s lips widens. 

“Oh, but you do,” he says, tone of his voice suddenly soft as he loosens the grip on Oswald’s wrists and brings his fingers down to run them down the side of the smaller man’s cheek. “If I told you right now, that you looked pretty, you’d _feel_ something.”

Oswald bites his lip, chest growing tight.

Again, it’s true. 

That’s _why_ Oswald needs this to be rough and messy. 

He needs it to hurt.

There’s an oddly unfamiliar look in Ed’s eyes as he continues to caress the side of Oswald cheek - almost as if he’s losing himself in the gesture. And Oswald could lose himself to that tender touch as well, every inch of his body aching in ways it only does with Ed.

Ed’s breathing hitches a little then, and just as Ed is about to lean down for a kiss, Oswald feels on the verge of suffocating.

“Are you just going to spend the whole night sweet-talking me or what, _Riddler?!”_ he hurls out, slapping Ed’s hand away from his face.

And just like that, that odd look on Ed’s face disappears, making room for an all too familiar snarl.

Oswald lets out a pained gasp as Ed’s hand is back on his face, this time with his nails digging sharply into his cheeks.

“Oh, don’t worry, Oswald,” he hisses, leaning down until their faces are close. “I wouldn’t have called you pretty anyway. I might be a lot, but I’m not a _liar_.”

And with that, Ed kisses him, tongue hungrily nudging at the seam of Oswald’s lips before plunging into his mouth.

Oswald wants to push him off, reminding him of that one time he’s told Oswald _exactly_ that - that he’s pretty. 

But then a wave of something hot rocks through him as their cocks rub up against another, both of their erections straining hard against the tight fabric they’re being held back by. Oswald moans into the kiss, grabbing at Ed’s back as he tries to squeeze the man even _closer_ in between his spread thighs. 

Ed pulls off then, but remains close enough for their lips to still brush against each other. “You repulse me,” he hisses. 

Oswald’s first instinct is to wince. “Oh, really?” he breathes, eyes flickering defiantly as he rocks up against Ed’s body that is snug on top of him. “ _This_ makes me quite doubt that, old friend.”

Ed lets out a soft groan, quickly pressing his lips together. He pushes himself off Oswald but remains standing between his spread legs that are dangling from the table.

“To be clear. I’m not doing this because I feel attraction to _you_. It’s more like a power dynamic thing. I mean, you - _the Penguin_ submitting to me, his arch enemy, even _begging_ me to _fuck_ you…like a cheap whore.”

Ed’s mouth splits into a grin and he lets out a laugh, that makes the fine hairs on Oswald’s body stand up.

With a smile still on his lips, Ed gushes, “I mean - _Wow_. If that isn’t an ego booster, then I don’t know what is.”

Oswald is torn between punching him, knocking these irritatingly white teeth out, and thanking him.

Because after all, this is what he wants, what he _needs_. 

“But you, on the other hand. You _are_ attracted to me. Your whole body is _aching_ for me, Oswald,” Ed continues, each word feeling like it’s piercing right through skin.

Ed brings his hand down, tracing the outline of the very obvious bulge in Oswald’s pants, making the smaller man inhale sharply and whimper. 

“Well, not to be rude,” Oswald huffs out, biting back another moan as Ed continues to palm him through his pants.  “But how about you finally put yourself to use and actually do what I called you here for.” 

Ed draws his hand back.

Oswald stops to let out a fake gasp. “Oh right, it was me who called for you to come. And here you are. So, doesn’t that really make _you_ the whore here?”

The smirk on Ed’s face instantly disappears and Oswald’s gut squeezes tightly at the darkness washing over the man’s face. A darkness he’s grown quite familiar with.

The next second, Oswald is roughly yanked off the table by his collar, his bad leg coming down onto the ground with too much impact and making him gasp in pain.

“Ow- Ed-” he manages to yelp before he’s turned around, his arms twisted behind his back before he’s pushed face down, his cheek connecting sharply with the hard surface of the table.

In these moments, there’s always a tiny ounce of regret flickering up in Oswald. After many nights spent with Ed, he knows there is _still_ another side to Ed, one that would make this much more pleasurable for him - less painful. 

But this is how it’s supposed to be. It _needs_ to hurt. 

After quickly tugging Oswald’s pants down and exposing his backside, Ed uses the advantage of their position to land a particular sharp smack on his ass, catching Oswald by surprise and causing him to let out an embarrassing squeak. 

“Spread your legs,” Ed commands, his tone of voice leaving no room for doubt that more slaps would follow if Oswald won’t comply immediately. 

There’s rustling, and a small popping noise of a bottle being opened before Oswald can already feel the wet tip of a finger probing his entrance. 

After a quick preparation, Oswald feels Ed’s hand on his ass, digging into the soft flesh and spreading him open as something big bluntly presses against his hole this time.

The table is too big to reach the edge on the other side, so Oswald just grits his teeth, desperately forcing himself to relax as the wide head of Ed’s cock begins to push into him, forcing itself through the tight ring of muscles before plunging inside.

Oswald whines as his tight walls squeeze around the thick flesh sliding into him, all of his senses feeling saturated with a tingling hot sensation, with nothing else to focus on besides at how incredibly tight and _full_ he feels. 

“Yesss,” Ed hisses above him, placing one of his hands on the nape of Oswald’s neck, forcing him to stay pressed flat against the table. “I have to say, I used to be surprised at how fucking tight you always feel.” 

He begins to slowly pull back out, the drag of that thick and hot flesh against his tight walls making Oswald moan and his stomach twist with pleasure.

“But then I realized,” Ed continues, followed by a small chuckle. “It’s because no one would ever want to touch you,” he says and pushes his whole length back inside.

Oswald whimpers in response, squeezing his eyes shut, still trying to get adjusted to the big cock inside of him. A trickle of sweat is running down his spine before settling onto the small dimple on his lower back, right where Ed’s other hand is placed. The rhythm begins to increase a little, and so does the pitch of Oswald’s moans and cries.

Ed on the other hand remains mostly silent, with the exceptions of small grunts and groans. 

Eventually, he withdraws his hand from Oswald’s neck to grip both sides of the smaller man’s hips. The thrusts get faster, causing their skin to smack loudly together and Oswald has to prop himself up on his elbows to keep his cheek from getting sore from the friction against the table.

At first, he just keeps his eyes closed, mouth hanging open to remind himself to breathe properly. But then, he blinks them open for a moment only to find his reflection staring back at him from the shiny smooth surface of the table.

Oswald just stares at himself for a while as his face twists with pleasure every time Ed hits that sweet spot inside him. He can even see the glistening shimmer his sweat has left on his face.

And just as the throbbing in his cock becomes more adamant, and his balls begin to grow tighter, Oswald dares himself to change the angle of his head a little, making him catch sight of Ed behind him, pounding into him with all he’s got.

There’s a reason Oswald mostly always prefers their encounters to be like this - with him bent over and unable to see the other man’s face let alone maintain eye contact for too long. 

It’s too intimate.

And being too intimate with Ed entails risks, risks only Oswald is aware of.

Yet, still, Oswald can’t look away this time. And Ed doesn’t know he can be seen.

His mouth is hanging open, eyes closed, and there’s a small crinkle in the skin between his brows as a look of utter bliss and pleasure washes over his face. And then, Oswald can hear it reaching his ears: soft little gasps of breaths that sound an awfully lot like Oswald’s name. 

And suddenly there’s warmth bubbling up in him, it’s gripping him tight, just like he is squeezing around Ed, desperate to keep him like this forever.

“Ed,” he hears himself gasp, and then the tightness spreads and spreads - and he comes with a sob, the heat finally spilling over as his cock pulses where it’s trapped against his stomach.

Ed follows moments later, coming with a groan as he finds his release while buried deep in Oswald’s body. 

“Oswald,” he pants, forehead pressing against the back of Oswald’s head. “ _Oswald_.”

And Oswald wants to just relish, drinking up that rare moment of affection. Maybe even rub it in Ed’s face that he’s in fact a _liar_ , for pretending to not feel anything at all during this. 

But Oswald knows he’s a liar to himself as well. He does crave Ed’s affection, still. After all these months. 

He just pretends he doesn’t. Because he _can’t_. 

Love is something he won’t ever allow himself to crave again, let alone _feel_. 

So, after they’ve finished and both men have quietly dressed back up again, Oswald doesn’t lean in for a goodbye kiss, even though his lips _burn_ for it. 

Oswald knows these moments after, are always the hardest, and the ones that are the most dangerous for him. 

So, he needs Ed to quickly nip that slowly rekindling flame in him in the bud. 

“You do realize that hat makes you look even less intimidating, right?” Oswald taunts, as he watches Ed putting it on his head. 

Ed gives him a dirty look, but remains silent. 

“I mean, it makes you look even more…,” he trails off, frowning a little as he realizes he doesn’t know how to continue his insult.

“Makes me look more like what?” Ed demands, quickly filling the space between them by pushing Oswald back up against the table. 

He cups his face with his leather-gloved hands, making Oswald’s breath hitch in his chest and there it is again, that dangerous warmth spreading in his chest and making his stomach flutter.

“You know, I have to admit you are quite endearing at times, Oswald,” Ed whispers, lips curling into a smug smile as he rubs his thumbs in small circles across Oswald’s cheeks, making them glow in a bright pink.

Oswald feels himself tense up, trying to fight against what’s happening in him.

But in the end he just grabs at Ed’s tie and pulls him in for a deep kiss. 

The next time, Oswald swears to himself, he’d make Ed hurt him. With words. With fists. With everything. 

Until finally, that kindling flame would extinguish once and for all. 


End file.
